


Salvation

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, Post-Episode: s02e08 And the Point of Salvation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9026218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: Ezekiel remembers, but doesn't want the others to know. Of course, one does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



> Sorry I couldn't figure out how to work Cassandra and Jake into this treat, but your prompt really grabbed me! I hope you enjoy the treat! :)

If there was one thing a cat burglar had to be, it was silent. Ezekiel had spent more than one night dozing in a ventilation shaft or behind a curtain, where a speck of noise would get him caught and arrested. So if nothing else, he knew how to sleep quietly.

This was a skill Ezekiel had never appreciated more than after the DARPA mission. As the afternoon wore on, his memory started to trickle back in; flashes of moments from inside the game. It wasn’t that bad, though, until he lay down to sleep that night.

No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was awake again, gasping and choking back a scream as Baird died right before his eyes. Shaking it off as a nightmare, and perfectly understandable under the circumstances, Ezekiel went back to sleep. Only to soon be woken again by another nightmare - this time of Cassie being ripped apart by the rage monsters.

He still didn’t make a noise, but Ezekiel also didn’t get much sleep that night. Nor the next few nights. Every time he closed his eyes, even when awake, he just saw the others, over and over, dying because he couldn’t save them.

About a week had passed, and Ezekiel was seriously considering looking for some kind of magical assistance from the Library. He was completely off his game - Jenkins was outwitting him in most conversations, Baird had scared the life out of him by appearing in the stacks beside him, and Stone had managed to sneak up on him twice! Sometimes it felt like he was still stuck back in that complex, just going through the motions to get out.

One night, as Ezekiel woke from yet another nightmare, he found a steaming cup of tea sitting on his bedside table. “Wha-?”

“The chamomile helps,” Baird said, peeking into his room. The hallway light only illuminated half of her face, but that was fine; Ezekiel didn’t want to see her expression right now.

“Don’t know what you mean!” He mumbled.

“Chamomile in the tea,” she clarified. “It helps with the tense muscles. “I’ve got a heat pack warming up in the kitchen, too.”

“I don’t need any of those things,” Ezekiel insisted.

“Sure you don’t,” Baird agreed in that way of hers. “But since you’re up anyway, come sit with me.

Not really having a good argument prepared for that, and unable to sleep anytime soon anyway, Ezekiel caved. Wrapping his blanket around him, he trudged into the kitchen after her. At the last moment he grabbed the tea mug. Taking a sip, Ezekiel did a double take. “You put milk in this!”

“I do know the difference between how Americans and Australians take their tea,” Baird replied smugly. “Not to mention I’ve seen you sneak it when you think we aren’t paying attention.”

Ezekiel really had to stop forgetting how observant Baird was. “Well… thank you.”

“Drink up,” she replied. “The chamomile will be good for you.” Ezekiel took another sip as Baird pulled a red pack from the microwave and draped it across his shoulders. The heat really did feel amazing.

No! He wasn’t going to let her get close! He’d made a promise to himself to keep all of them at a distance. Then he wouldn’t have to watch them die for real.

“Well, thanks for the tea. Goodnight.”

“Stop.” Baird gently pushed him down onto the barstool. “Sit. Don’t run from me for _just_... ten minutes. I know you remember.”

He intended to deny it - it was on the tip of his tongue, really - but finally the stress and worry and sleepless nights caught up with him. With a sigh, Ezekiel crossed his arms on the counter and let his head flump down onto them. “I do.”

“Let me guess; nightmares, cold sweats, sleepless nights, anxious and jittery all the time?”

“Uh huh,” he confirmed without lifting his head.

“Well, believe it or not, this is not my first rodeo with those symptoms,” Baird said. “So are you ready to take your medicine?”

“I hate taking medicine,” Ezekiel grumbled, but it was half-hearted. He’d do almost anything to get rid of these nightmares.

“Well too bad,” Baird teased. “Because you’ve really got no choice.”

Ezekiel snorted. But he was already feeling a little better. “Fine.”

“Now finish your tea,” she instructed. “Then you’re going to go back to sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to talk, and you’re going to start a new project in the Library, to get your mind off of everything else.”

“I’m not tired,” Ezekiel tried to protest, but the yawn that immediately followed his declaration proved it a lie.

“I know you are,” Baird said. “Just finish that tea. I added a little something something from Jenkins’ hedgemagic medical stash to help you feel a little better, in addition to the chamomile. And then you’re going to go curl up on the couch while I read through this security manual that Charlene left behind.

“You’re going to stay up?” Ezekiel asked before he could stop himself. He really was losing his touch.

“Of course,” Baird replied as though there should never have been any doubt. And maybe there shouldn’t have been.

Ezekiel quickly chugged down the rest of his tea, and then let Baird lead him to the couches. As he curled up beneath a thick blanket that just screamed Cassandra’s touch, with the heat pack still wrapped around his neck, Ezekiel felt sleep pulling at him again. Baird sat down on the second couch with a small reading lamp and a large leather-bound book.

And every time that night that Ezekiel woke up sweating, Baird was sitting there, calmly reading, and still alive. And she was there every time the next night, and the next, and the next. And every day, when the tiredness caught up with him, or the memories resurged, she would be at his elbow with a cup of tea and a knowing look. They talked about what happened, and Ezekiel threw himself into cataloguing the rare gem room.

After a few weeks, Ezekiel realized that he wasn’t waking up as many times a night, or even every night, though Baird was always still there. He found himself making the tea in advance, and looking forward to their talks. His edginess and anxiety waned, and he began to look forward to going back out into the field.

When it came down to it, it might have taken him an uncountable number of tries, but in the end, Ezekiel had saved them. And then, as she always did, Baird had saved him in turn.


End file.
